THE GRIP OF GOLD!

Evening Star, Issue 15074, 4 January 1913, Page 3

THE GRIP OF GOLD!

By Robekt Halifax (Author of 'The Drums of Fate,' 'The House of Horror,' ' A Woman in Their Web,' 'Law Society, etc.). CHAPTER XIII. There was no answer.' He drummed with his knuckles again, and knew that a rustle had sounderl—knew that she had heard. But no voice came, back. At that moment it seemed monstrous. It maddened him; it was like a oonspiracy oi silence. He went to apeak, but a sort of three-cornered lump had sprung into his throat. She should answer him! This growing sense of constraint and concealment was suffocating him. He snatched at tha door handle, turned it, and pushed. It yielded. He strode straight in. And she was theic, within a few feet of him as he paused. She had changed her prey habit for a black one, and knelt by the table, her head down upon clasped hands. Praying? He would have stepped back without a word. He had surprised her in a look of dryeyed, defiant intensity, and dread, thatsent a tingle, of reaction through, him. But in the same instant she was upon her feet, sslf-posesscd, drawn up like a queen of tragedy, utterly different from the grey, silent, woman 'who had stood back with folded hands from .Mr J,oder's bedside. She had been simply the nurse then; she was simply the woman now.

"Ihis —this is my private room, Mr Spun-, until Igo to-morrow "' "To-mcrrowr" Re echoed it involuntarily. "But you will not! Who says so? lou cannot go like that, until we "know what—until some understanding-—"' " You are in my privateroom, Mr Spurr," she said again, on a low, deep note of her voice that was like a- harp wire set vibrating. "Last night, if you remember, you entered it quite by error—or, I assume"ko. It is not error to-night !*' " But—but—Miss CottrelL am I completely " I)cn t! I know what is in your mind. You are thinking nie Delilah. 'You have avoided me until'vou could do so no longer. Don't: I cannot bear more than I have already suffered here. "I was mad—mad, lo speak to you last nkcht as I did—to hint in pity that I could "help you. I know now. I am going. You have but to say the word. Fiing m 9 out, like a woman who has schemed. I can bear that—but not this. You insult me by coming in this way, knowing what you' knew. And you insult yourself—forcing yourself to piav a part on my account. You shall not-!"

It had begun in staccato gasps, as her breast tosd and fell. It was as if the. soul of a woman had been in travail—travail that no one outside that- room was to suspect. She had calmed suddenly again. She was, pointing to the door behind. Ho stared : he could not take his eves from hor passionless pale face, in which the groy eyes seemed to expand and expand. AH that he had come to say slipped from his mind. He simply knew'that as a man, after hearing those' words, he could not turn and go as ho had come. But his jaws worked soundlessly. He could do nothing but put a hand to his forehead and wonder if the mental mechanism within had ceased to act. And still she stood statute-like—a woman who waited.

"Delilah? You?" he forced out. in a whisper. "I don't understand. I came— I cp.me, because "

She took a quick step. She held both his wrists in a resolute grip. Close into his eyes she. looked, as if she had some duty to perform, and would not shrink.

"You don't understand? You have never had to enter into a woman's thoughts? lou know nothing of the type of woman who can weep fov the agouv'of others, but never for her own? 1 tried—l did all I could tr> pave the way for von. I told you that I had been misjudged here, and ever snould ba Now you force me to speak. And I wiil—even if you despite me for it For I would so.-ijun-'aye. sooner bear that than take your love on such conditions.' • • . You need not lie to me now. 1 knew you would come to me—knew it must be. I was hoping that 1 could leave, the iiouse betore you fullv realised. But that' v.-k.s not to be. And now—fhall T goon'"' _ "IJo on:" Spurr whispered, as her hands. tell away, .There w.ip no fear that he would r.ct listen. He « a; like a man held bv liypno tlc influence, lost to nil but the vciJe, of tie woman who had induced it. " f kept my silence—kept, it for weeks, against his wich. I ir iU - 0 l;p Inv ~c st. ~ tear that ho might speak of it. T kept them all from his room as much as possible —as they will tell you in their contemptible, inclination. They hated me; thov cou'd not know what 1. was suffering, anil 1 could never tell them. One man—mrt one man alone—knew of the sword over me and 1 appealed to his manhood. Dr Lancing. The money was nothing. Nothing' I_ had no need of it. But the knowledge tnat a dvmg man's last wish—the thought tuiit he had compelled my promise to give myself to a man whom I had never seen and who might despise me if 1 kept ii ,: bhe looked away, the slim fingers knotted at her throat.

Sptirr drew a lon<r. deep breath ; but hj" couid not stir. The atmosphere of this room seemed more stifling every moment imt lie. must endure it. A Woman was baruig her inmost heart, and as vet onlv the faintest glimmer of light 'wavered through his darkness. It was all consonant with the shroud of mvsteiv that had enveloped him as he. entered Feicole. ''l do not despise vou. I have no eausp ' he 6-iid. with difficulty. '■ Will vou uo on : I wish it. If theio is something I must -know, let me know. Miss C'ottiell.''

She had been turning awav. as if stung to the depths by something" in his chili attitude. She faced him again, .speaking in rapid, concentrated breaths, her eves flickering defiance.

"Wo on? Why should I? You are playing with a woman's susceptibilities— test mg something that aiw true man holds as sacred before it becomes hi.s own. You knew! You have heard.''

•\ou put it off until the last moment, when all the household was asleep. You had guessed that I might he gone tomorrow, to escape this humiliation at vour hands—yes! You feared that mv pride would lead, me to take that filial step beiore you had spoken. Your look, vour first words, showed it. as vou entered'this room unbidden— unbidden'' Yesterday I made my great effort. J tried to appear as it I knew nothing—as if I had no cause to feci shame or shrink from vou as th-> man whose life was to be chained to mine. iJtit I comd keep it up no lonp-er Letme go! Oive the paper that Mr Loder wrote his words upon—let me destroy it and sot you free ! Don't fear ; Dr Lanciii" wouhl never speak; it would be buried foTever between our three selves! I can do all that, and pass out of vour life as I came into it. I want no man's forced Jove—a love that is to be a halter about his neck! But to stand here and have to speak, to know that you avoid and loauhe me because your uncle chose to think of me as a minist-wing angel in his pain—to remain in this house "with the man to whom Mr Loder gave me as a wite without any woman's wish or consent

The hard sob shook her from head to foot.

She went, back from him, her straininu arms put out, her teeth clenched upon the rest. ' A Such a. pause ! Through Wil- ! ,K| b P. un '* fcrnin there went boom after boom ot sound. as if waves were breaking u b the nouse foundations. -\fte--v.-ards ne could recollect, as the booming sounc, died down, looking around the room ana noting an inner door in the comerhe door that would lead into Miss Cotapartment. He recollected that Tiis thoughts veered back to Shcba bt. .John—wondered vaguely if she had reached her room safely, and how lon- it conic, be since he had ascended that staircase to go to his own. Then he found nimself speaking, quietly, tensely, without bitterness.

\on say that I knew? Do I appear—am I acting like a man who knows that the woman facing him is placed in such a position as yoi, siiggcst? Answer that!" „„-, , 11 , kls .?}v!" she repeated, faintlv. What else could T think? You have ?--en tiie- paper ; you !;nuw what he had written —what his deathbed desire was. Or you have heard it from Dr Lancing. I wa jt s d

—I waited all day, fearing the moment, and yet knowing that it was my woman's duty to let you speak. For—for unless you obeyed him, the money was left awav Irom you. . And for all I could know, you might accuse me of being something W than a woman if I robbed vou of that, by —oy refusing to take you" on those conditions. You knew! If not-if not—God help me I God help me, for being the first to tell you! The shame of it! Oh. strike me down, if you will—free yourself of me in that way! I have no wish to Jive—to take a love that is love in name onlv! "

Miss Cotterell!" He could say it warmngly imploringly. He glanced hack to know that the door was quite closed -He put out his hand almost calmlv. " Onemoment-! I ask yon to he calm-I expect it Int. yourself in my place to-nieht. and fe '

She had been moving towards the inner door. Sho faced round slowlv, her face Schin" UElng 3nd hopel€M > lia P ale 3i P s '' Xo ; put yourself in mine ! If I were hat you are thinking me I could bear it. But not when I know that it was too long because I had hoped and prayed t/ut you might never know of the wish. HKlumn f 1 ' 6 "\ * I, ™ it .« v en to a woman's enduiapce, and you bring me to it-brimr me to it to-night. Let me go > " S the wllf l° ff ' u Si , le W f feelin * out to And the wall-her shaking hands just missed it He nms step instantly from' the or Je X the traditions of his

H ° P nt ° ne hand *° her swaying figure, and .caught her groping lingers with the other. b l fe

im'l.'™ 0 ' 1 ' 1 ' 1 " hB be , gg , 6d ' husM .V, for some unknown reason shaken to the depth* of m mams nature. "For God's sake, don't Jet me have more- on my mind to-night! Whatever it all means-whatever is to Kippen-don't make it harder to bear now. geUt aV Youlh-dP' lng "° Und y ° U ' fOT- . The. long quiver that answered shocked him sdencea him. What was he doing? Holding almost tenderly in his arms the woman who had waited for him to loathe her—the woman who, if his ears had heard wight m this hour, had been thrust upon lum as his soulmate for all eternity. Juaitti Lottrell, his uncle's nurse! " J«dith Cottrell!" he echoed "sunkenlv to himself. She lay passive in his embrace. It was almost as if Fate had worked to bring about naturally the consummation that the dead man had desired Low into her eyes, that had opened slowly to window back his own, ho stared And she seemed to divine his thoughts Jno faintness was beaten back She struggled free. "Xo—no! I ask no pity! You despise me for what I could not help, and always must. I can go." "I do not. Before heaven to-night, Ido not! Reckless now, he held her back trom the inner door as by some unratified right. The muffled drums of destiny were beating, in this moment; all conventionality, all artificial restraint, must go Will you hear me? If these are your rooms, you have a perfect right to remain in them ; you are not going because of me. .Now! Do I understand that Mr Loder expressed a wish that I should think of you as my promised wife? You mean that my own uncle, whom I was not to see alive, kit a paper giving me his money on that stipulation? Then, I swear to you that I know nothing of it. I swear to you, as frankly as I could have done yesterday, that 1 should never dream of "accepting money which held any self-respecting woman to such a bondage as—as the bondage of my aims in marriage." The tremor had passed. ° She was silent, with a strange silence. The fathomless grey eyes looked pa-st him as at handwriting upon the wall there. Slowlv, step by step, Spun- went back. He was sure of himself now. Ho had not even attempted to realise. "You are quite safe! Yon need never nave feared for my thoughts— or the world's thoughts. Where is the paper? He gives you to mo? By what right ? How could I dream of looking to you to accept a- loveless marriage, even fo'r the greatest fortune known? Don't be silent—l would sooner you struck me m the face for that mere : sugges.tion." ' r T.ovekss-ycs!» Sho fastened upon that word. She repeated it to herself as she stood there so still, all the vehemence gone, "lou ask me how, and why? T car. only answer you in truth—l can'only say that he never seemed to fear that the love would -not- come lo vou !"' Her voiiv had sunk almost to nothing Something in her waiting attitude, in h»r sue den passivity, seemed to send a tremor through the man in turn. He went back yet another step, his tone almost cold. "Then, hs wronged you—wronged us both. Let it end here, between us. tonight. Let the weight of if, slip from vou. lor no one need ever know. If such a paper exists "

"It':' she repeated, between teeth, that, had wmo together. "If? What can you mean? it wa S ,here. He wrote it with In* own hand. Dr Lancing saw it. and will tell you fio. It cannot, he concealed, ihe tvil is wrought, and can never he undone—not in that wav !"

Xot. m that wav! The soft word* reached him with a significance that no man could mi stake. Her eves watched him—watched him as if ready to liidvt up with tender passion or a tigerish defiance —according to his answer. Yaoue'v he read it all. She had allowed herself "to be carried. In- eagerness just over the border hue of prudence. How much of it mioht lie true, how much of U might be the effort of ;i. superb actress whom he could admire while he scorned, he would not stay now to nsk himself, lie was perfectly calm now. but he was upon the one firm strip of ground in a quaking morass. He kept his face as a mask. He bowed courteously. "Set- your mind at rest. Miss Cott'rell. 1 .shall respect, as a sacred confidence what .you tel! me to-night. T am prepared to loam that my late uncle's perversion of idea:; did not stop at that ; in fact. I un piepared for anything that could hapnen. Doctor Lancing can act according to'brown discretion. T will speak for mvseif. Should such a paper come to light in due course, it will be torn to pieces—as- itdeserves to be !"

"And his money—ah!" She had put out, the Jong white arms as if unconsciously. The sharp breath flashed from her lips like a finality. "What of that? I am to go. knowing' that I have robbed vou of that!"'

" Not at all. You are to remain here as long as you wish—as long as is necessary to your mirposes Forsret all the rest! Ar.y court- of law would find thatsuch a paper had been dictated or written bv a. person not mentally responsible. I will 350b keep you longer." I came to this room—l came "

He paused. Xo—no; he would never say now what he had knocked to say. Aik] she saw it. She had rustled close, as liili hand reached for the door. Inward despair will sweeten the coldest face. It transfigured Judith Goth-ell's face at that moment, and -whispered : "You have lied, to spare my feelings. Own that! Be a man to-m'cht—as I nnf ;i won.an ! You came here with another purnose, hut your courace failed you. You had not expected I should have taken it so to heart. Speak !" " I can speak, antf finite truthfully," he replied, his own hands drawn hack. " I lv.eant to Fay that I feared \!i?s St. John war, ill—that r-he had heen left alone ; n be: - room. You. as a capable nurse. w°ve the first, perron I turned to in a difficulty —as vou asked me yesterday to do. That is all!"

"All!" she breathed. She stood, so that he could .not- turn. "Shall I po? Po you wish to be rid of me. in your heart? Say it, at once!"

"What- do you imply?" ho- whispered, lie was growing sterner, and yet he felt himself weakening under those.'eyes. " You know ! Tell mo what it is to he between us. As I am placed, you must. It is my woman's right—yon shall!" "Well, then''—he put back her arms F-teadily—"if what I have said is not sufficient, I cn.n only add that it Tests between yourself and Miss St. John how much longer you remain in this house—her house!"

He went out. He would not look back. The dear air of the corridor seemed to fan him like a cold wind : he felt like, one who had.stood in a drugged chamber. He had turned, _ down t-hq western i>aesage,~ His

hand was upon the door of his own room, whan he heard that emit rustle of slants, awl the staccato, commanding breaths behind. '' Mr Spirrr ! One last word ! Hear this!" He could have feigned a deafness, and escaped, but it was not in him to think of •that. He swerved round. She had followed him—paused by the window some feet away, through which a shaft of the moonlight struck across her faoe. A queer sensation crawled through the man's veins —a prescience of trouble deeper than he could realise to-night. He found himself listening in sick fear for the opening of some door, to tell him that her words had been overheard. "One word!" she panted. "It rests with you, and you alone. You have my heart's secret—wrung from me in that moment of weakness. If you hate me utterly for coming here to say that, remember that it was you who led me to —to know that I had a heart!" He was dumb. He could only wait for the next withering, entreating breath. " You—you allowed me to speak—to think that you knew all! You spoke last night as though—as though you understood. Gcd ! How shall 1 put it? ibid them you thought again. Y T ou had seen another face here. Need I name her? You had seen the face of a woman who had sot herself—pledged herself—to gain your affections. \e.s! You have led me into the most terrible position that a woman can know. And now I am to go!" One more pause. Then the man found his voice, and answered : "So be it, Miss Ccttrell. Perhaps it would be best- for all concerned—best if we let this matter end a.s it began. I have nothing more to say, although until this happened I had much to say to you upon ether questions. Let them go! I am honestly sorry if I ever gave you cause to take up this attitude. That is all." " Yes," she whispered. " You're a man —you win forget it ajl to-morrow. I'm a woman—l never shall!" For one last moment she stood facing him, the moonlight playing over her halfsmiling, scornful face." Then—then the swish of her gown was dying down the corridor. _No one had heard. No one would be likely to know. And yet—the words had been spoken, and could never be taken back! CHAPTER XIV. Gloaming! Gloaming, filled with the scent of stacked hay and sweetbrier, heavy with the- breath of golden poppies—divinely hushed save for an occasional distant gunshot or rattle of wheels, the laugh of homing workmen, the bay of a hound in some covert. Away inland the furnace of chimneys at Barrowdene were sending up crimsoning pillars of smoke against the sky. Here, down in the hollow, Felcote lamps were beginning to twinkle 'and cast shadows, but from that picturesque point where the road took its first dip downwards softest amber glory could still be seen dying behind the woods. Its reflection caught upon a stately, red-brick villa, with white facings, standing in splendid isolation well back from the main road. Words cut into a burnished nameplata could be clearly read : " Doctor Gilbert Lancing." And a woman had paused to read them. Tall and slender, with the swift, sinuous grace of refinement, and walking as with a fixed purpose, she had halted close _ against the brier hedge in front. Her intent gaze moved along to the wide bay window on the left. A 'flame of light had just shot up in there, and for an instant the interior of the room was laid bare. Then some hand let slip the rosecolored blind and shut it out. The watching woman half turned, one hand plucking meditatively at the strip of velvet around her throat, her thin lips curved iu the suggestion of a bitter smile. Then—then a tremble had run through her from head to foot. From that wide room just eclipsed a sudden ripple of music had'come. .Skilful, confident fingers had swept the length of a piano keyboard. Now back again, with alternating minor chords that rang out as with a sense of power and triumph. The flood of true notes swelled and swelled, like a crescendo prelude to the outburst of some waiting choir—to glide softly into one of the simple, wailing "waltz melodies. A man's voice struck in, a full, practised tenor voice. She listened lor the words, her face a study, her brcatA as still as though no heart beat within. Now there came a lull. vShe waited a minute, and then caught up her skirt, took a swift little rush between rhododendron clumps towards the door, and pressed the bell-push. She put her ear to the glass panels. A man's rich voice inside, that had been rising in a laugh, broke off as the electric bell sounded. A pause; then the door went back, a trim maid appeared. The eyes of the woman outside scanned her coldly, contemptuously, through the veil meshes. "Well!" she breathed sharply,. " I cannot see your master out here !" "Oh. I beg your pardon! Step this way, please. What—what name shall I give?" "None! Why should you? I might be an utter stranger !"' " Yes, madam. But he—he expects me to know the name before I knock !" "Ah !" She gave a low little laugh. "Sister Judith Cottrell, you can tell him." " Ay, of course ! Excuse me for not recognising you, Miss. You—you looked so different iu this light!" She disappeared. Sister Judith, always a woman who could wait, was not the one to follow her. There was a suppressed sound of voices, the soft closing of a door —two doors—and then the maid reappeared, slightly breathless. " Gould you possibly leave it for another time. Miss? Dr Lancing happens to be engaged." "Very well! I can stand here and await his pleasure." " I mean, it was my mistake, Miss. The doctor is not in just at present." Judith Coltrell's cold, erect figure turned in the twilight of the waiting room. Her low, level voice gave no note of doubt or surprise. " I see. Perhaps T will not trouble him, after all. Might I ask whose photograph that is?—whom it • represents I should say?" The maid stared at her, turned up the li.L'ht, and peered forward at a rich green plush and gilt- frame over the mantelshelf. "That? Why, isn't it Miss St. John, the young lady up at the Manor ?" "Really? To be sure, yes! T thought there was a likeness, and vet I couldn't quite understand Miss St, John's picture being here. Thank you; good evening!" (To be continued.)